Heads or Tails
by Experimental Madness
Summary: A reckless and unstable hitwoman is just trying to scratch out a living for herself on the streets of Gotham, but when she forges a dangerous partnership with one of Gotham's most terrifying villains her fate will rest on the flip of a coin.
1. The Ripper

This is a bit of an experiment. I will not pretend to be an expert on all things Batman, but I know a fair amount. This story takes place after events from The Long Halloween and Dark Victory. I may take a few elements from TDK, but most characters will be based on the comics (or my knowledge of them.) I do promise lots and lots of appearances of several of the great villains to name a few: Joker, Scarecrow, The Mad Hatter, Killer Croc, Penguin, and Poison Ivy. And obviously...Two-Face.

To be honest, I'm kinda surprised that TDK didn't spark a whole mob of new Two-Face fans, (everyone flocked to the Joker XD) and since my fascination for Harv was rekindled by the movie...I came up with this piece.

Disclaimer: **I do NOT OWN ANYTHING RELATED TO BATMAN...I do however own my two original characters. :)**

So, like I said...this is a bit of an experiment.

* * *

I

The Ripper

The ashes from the cigarette were flicked onto the cold concrete floor. The thin wisp of smoke spiraled up to a black, wide brimmed hat. The glow from the cigarette and from the single light bulb swinging from the ceiling illuminated a tall figure clad in a black trench coat, face partially hidden under the collar.

"Smack him for me will ya? I want him to be awake for this." The voice sounded like metal against metal. The two men standing near the opposite corner, hired guns, walked over to the chair in the center of the room where an unconscious man sat with his hands and feet bound to the chair.

One of the men gave the unconscious man a slap. He received a slightly muffled groan for his efforts. The bound man blinked, squinting against the swaying light, he caught the shadowy outline of the tall figure in the corner.

"So," the metallic voice said, "I hear you're working for a small time gang now, Richie, in the drug ring I hear? Long way down from your days in the Maroni business."

The man groaned, "Maroni family's washed up, you know there ain't nutten to be made from sticking 'round 'em."

The metallic voice gave a humorless chuckle, "Oh, but you're making something outta them, ain't ya Richie? Now, my _employers_ tell me ya got yourself a nice little deal down at the D.A's office. Now, Richie..." more ashes from the cigarette, "I _know_ ya didn't make the mistake on thinking that just 'cause the Freaks got a little overexcited that _we_ wouldn't hear about your impending court date, hm?"

"You got nothing on me!" Richie spat, "The Maronis are finished, washed up, jus' like the Roman."

Something silver glinted in the swaying light. "I don't care about how _well_ the families keep business, Richie, I just come to clean up when I get the phone call...and your number came up this time, Richie."

The booted steps of the tall figure edged into the light just a little. "No hard feelings, ya know."

"You wants I should gag 'im, Jack?" One of the thugs asked.

"Nah," The tall figure gave another draw on the cigarette before flicking it away entirely, "For 10 grand, it don't matter if they scream or go quietly." Metallic laughter grated through the room.

The figure came forward, a thin, long piece of wire was held taunt in gloved hands. Richie looked up in horror into his killer's face. "But...you're..."

The wire snapped around Richie's neck as fast as a cobra strike. He managed a gurgle and thrashed only twice before going still, a trickle of blood running down his neck where the wire had bit in.

"You wants I should t'row him in the river, Jack?" The other thug asked.

"We ain't finished yet." Jack drew open a switchblade knife and proceeded to slice the victim from the base of his collar to the top of his navel. His entrails spilled out onto the floor at Jack's feet. "Give 'em something to talk about, eh boys?"

The thugs wrinkled their noses at the smell of the man's guts oozing onto the floor, but as Jack withdrew the blade and walked calmly out of the room they followed behind without hesitation.

"So, what about the money?"

"Yeah, where's our cut, Jack?"

Two shots, in quick succession could be heard by anyone who was standing along the docks. The thugs fell over dead, a bullet in each of their chests. Jack stood over the bodies. "Rule number one, boys: Never let 'em see your guns. Rule number two; never ask for the money right after a job."

Jack drew a quarter from the pocket of the coat and flipped it once before tossing it at the bodies, "Here's your cut, boys, nice job."

* * *

It was only after the crime scene tape had been spread around Warehouse 2, and only after the cops had come to investigate, and only after the photos had been taken, and only after the cops had left to round up the usual suspects that Commissioner Jim Gordon allowed himself a tired sigh.

He removed his glasses to rub at tired eyed. This was not the first time he had seen a murder like this, but he had to admit, he hadn't seen it in a long time.

"I don't like this." A gruff voice said from the shadows.

"Frankly I would be surprised if anyone could find something to like about this...Batman." Gordon said, after the initial shock of Batman's sudden appearance wore off.

The masked man ignored the jibe and strode out of the shadows. "The carelessness...the mess," he added staring at the victim's entrails all over the floor. "Even the footprints in the blood." He pointed to the prints in question which led a trail straight out the door, "It's as if the killer _wants_ to be found."

"Did you get a look at the two men outside on the docks?" Gordon interjected.

Batman nodded, "Two shots, straight through the chest. Clean, efficient. Completely different style than this."

"Almost as if we have two killers on our hands, not one." Gordon said.

"Maybe," Batman said uncurling his hand to revealing the quarter that had been found with the two bodies outside, "or maybe not."

* * *

"And class dismissed. Have a lovely afternoon and I'll see you all tomorrow!" Miss Veronica Ripley smiled from her seat at the desk as a horde of six year olds made their way to the door.

Veronica smiled and waved at the last student to leave. She gave a small sigh and turned her attention to the stack of papers on her desk: the day's assignment had been to write a story. She pulled the first paper off the pile and began to read.

There came a slight knock on her door. Veronica answered without looking up, "I'm not really available for any teacher-parent meetings today, but if you'll just make an appointment at the main office, I can speak with you later."

"Do you think anyone's gonna by the story that I'm a parent?"

Veronica gave a startled gasp and looked up from her work, "Jacky?" She said in a shaky voice.

"You seem surprised to see me." A woman wearing long jeans and a green turtleneck sweater sauntered over from her spot against the door. She brushed aside a lock of red hair, which seemed to hold the appearance of being hacked with a weed whacker.

"Well, I am!" Veronica pushed away from her desk and wheeled her wheelchair over to greet the woman. "No phone call, no e-mail, Christ, Jacky if I wasn't so used to it I would have called the police!"

"Nah," Jacky bent over to give the woman a hug, "I'm like a bad penny, I always seem to keep coming back."

"So, where have you been keeping yourself?" Veronica asked after releasing Jacky.

"Not important," Jacky dismissed the question with an idle wave of her hand, "But, hey, I come with presents!" She rummaged through her black purse and handed Veronica a sealed white envelope.

"What's this?" Veronica laughed playfully, taking the envelope.

"Think of it as an...an early Christmas present." Jacky said as she watched Veronica open the envelope.

"But Jacky, Christmas isn't for another month!" She giggled, tearing away the last piece of the opening, "Oh...Jacky..." she stared wide eyed at the letter's contents, her face turning as white as a sheet.

"No, Nicky...don't be like that." Jacky said seeing the drastic change in the woman's face, "What's a little green between sisters, huh?"

"I can't take this Jacky...this...this must be your entire life's savings in here!" Veronica tried to hand the envelope back to Jacky.

"Nah, like I said, early Christmas present." Jacky said, pushing the letter back to her sister.

"Jacky...I can't..."

"You can and you will! What did I say to you after mom died? I said I'd take care o' ya and I am. Look at you, smart, beautiful, teaching in a nice, big, fancy school..."

"Oh stop, Jacky..." Veronica snapped, "Mom wanted us to look out for _each other_, Jacky, not for you to go...disappearing for months and leaving money on the doorstep. Jacky...where do you get this money?"

"I work for it, same as any...I told ya already it ain't important." Jacky growled.

"Jacky..."

"You know I always brag about you: my smart, Harvard graduate, sister..." Jacky said evasively.

"Jaquelin Ripley, I swear if you don't start telling me the truth right now, I'll..."

"Why can't you just be happy with what I give you, huh?" Jacky slammed her hand down on of the desks behind her, her voice took on a grating tone and her brown eyes flashed in annoyance. "Look, you _need_ this money don't pretend that'ya don't! I know they ain't paying you what they should, an' I know the doctor's bills are expensive. Don't worry about me and mine, 'k? You let me do the worrying, huh...lil' sis?"

Veronica clutched the envelope of money tightly in her hand. Jacky looked away for a moment before exhaling loudly, "Hey...look...'m sorry."

"No...no it's fine." Veronica said sullenly.

"What about that bone marrow donor?" Jacky asked quickly.

Veronica smiled through thin lips, "Not yet, but I'm not worried, I'm on the top of the list, one'll turn up."

"I know. I ain't worried about that. You're already doing just fine, ain't ya?" Jacky smiled slightly.

"I've been feeling much better these past few months." Veronica nodded slowly. "Hey, Jacky? I was just thinking, how about you stay over at my apartment. We could have Thanksgiving together...you know we haven't spent Thanksgiving together since..."

"Since Mom died, yeah...I wish I could, you know I do, but..."

"You have work." Veronica said disappointedly.

"Gotta keep the dough coming." Jacky said with a shrug and attempt at laughter.

"I know, but I miss you Jacky." Veronica said, taking her sister's hand.

"Hey now, I miss you too, but you an' me we ain't ever that far from each other. Two sides of the same coin, that's us." Jacky said, kneeling down to catch her sister's eyes.

"You taking care of yourself?" Veronica asked.

Jacky punched her chest lightly with her fist, "Still bulletproof." She winked.

Veronica laughed at that, "I suppose I'll be seeing you then?" She said sadly.

"Like I said, we ain't ever that far from each other...and..." She slapped the envelope back down on the desk, "Nice try there, I ain't as stupid as I look." She walked out of the classroom with her hands shoved in her jean pockets.

* * *

The call came at around 4:00 in the evening, an unconventional time to phone in with information on a murder that had occurred only an hour before hand. It was more unusual to have the report come in from one of the usual creeps who haunt the local bar. From the way the man's voice keep shaking, Commissioner Jim Gordon knew that there must be a connection to this murder and the one from yesterday. After reassuring the man over the phone, Gordon, along with two squad cars, took a trip down to Sully's Bar.

It was a mess. In the corner of the bar was the body, a woman. Same marks along her throat where the cord must have dug in deep and the same gash straight down the victim. In broad daylight. It was bold, reckless, but none of the witness could provide any help:

"Tall guy, he was...neva' did get his face though."

"Black hat, black coat. Didn' suspect him at first, kept to himself he did."

"Look, no one saw nothin'. A guy walks in orders a drink an' I gives it to him, guy walks out an' next thing you know everyone's panicking over some dead girl in the room."

In the middle of the day, and the only thing Jim Gordon had to go on was that his suspect was tall and wore a black hat and a long, black coat. That just about narrowed it down to every other man in Gotham.

"Fill me in." Gordon said to Det. Ramirez.

The detective looked up from her notes momentarily. "Victim's name is Annie White, twenty-four years old, and...erm..."

"What? Spill it, Ramirez?"

"She's...was, a high paid call girl." Ramirez coughed.

"What's a call girl doing in a place like this?" Gordon asked.

"Don't know yet, sir, probably waiting for her...client." Ramirez supplied.

"That's something to go on. Check her records, search her apartment...anything. Find a date book, a planner. She must have written down the names of her clients." Gordon sighed.

"We'll get on that, sir." Ramirez nodded, pulling out her phone as she spoke.

* * *

"Out for an evening prowl, Catwoman?" The rough voice caught the woman on the roof opposite the bar completely by surprise.

She recovered quickly, giving a feline purr in the process, "Same as you, Batman. So..." The woman put aside her binoculars for a moment. She lazily reached an arm up and placed it around Batman's shoulder, "Another day another body?"

"How did you know about..." Batman was silenced as Catwoman placed a finger over his lips.

"I have my sources, Batman, you know that surely? By the look of things you've got yourself a regular Jack the Ripper out there." She purred slightly and gave half a grin.

"And what," Batman snatched her hand rather harshly away from his face, "might your interest in these murders pertain to?"

"That hurt," Catwoman said, rubbing her hand, "And what else, Batman? Perhaps I'm just curious. Perhaps I'm interested to see if there's some money to be made from catching this killer, or perhaps I'm just showing up to stir you up, Batman." She laughed silkily and bounded away off the roof.

Batman watched as Catwoman raced off into the twilight. He stared down at the squad cars and watched as the body was carried off into a waiting ambulance. Before the paramedics closed the body bag up, he could see the strangulation marks and the scars from the victim's disembowelment. "Jack the Ripper, hm..." he whispered to himself as he too, disappeared into the fading light just as the body bag was zippered shut.

* * *

**Please be kind with your reviews if they contain critique. I'm not adverse to hearing it, but just don't call me stupid if I happen to mess up some information pertaining to some small detail on certain events that occurred in the comics that I'm not aware of. Please tell me if I have made a few errors, just don't insult me is all I ask. **

**Also if you think this is a story worth continuing now would be a fantastic time to mention it. XD**


	2. Connections

Thanks so much for all of the reviews! I hope you all enjoy the next chapter!

* * *

II

Connections 

The sharp clink of the shot glass on the hard wood surface of the table alerted the bartender to the girl sitting on the edge of bar table, swiveling about on the stool lazily. He let out a sigh as he uncorked the whiskey bottle and walked over to top her off. "One more, Jacky, one more and I mean it, I'm cutting you off."

"Now, Mike, don' be like that. I can hold my liquor bettern' half the men here an' you _know_ it." Jacky chuckled darkly as she downed the glass and gestured for him to fill it again.

Mike did so reluctantly than corked the bottle before Jacky's eyes and stowed it away, signaling that that would be the last of it. "No fun, Mike, you never were." Jacky grumbled as she picked up her glass again, downing it.

Mike waved one of the customers out the door and turned his attention back to the drunk girl. "What's the matter, Jacky? Every Saturday you come in an' drink yourself to oblivion. Are you in trouble? Money problems, or..."

Jacky laughed, "Money? Mike, I'm swimming in dough. Jeeze, does a girl half to have an excuse to get a little drunk once in a while?"

"If only it were once in a while, Jacky. Look, if you've got a problem maybe I can help you out. I've known you since you were just a little brat who used sweep up the floors 'round here."

"I ain't in trouble, Mike." Jacky snapped as she slammed her hand on the table in annoyance. She exhaled and looked away, tapping her fingers on the table, antsy the way she fidgeted about in her seat, "It's...it's this city, Mike. This damned, crazy city. I'm suffocating in here!"

"You an' everyone else, Jacky." Mike nodded.

Jacky laughed and shook her head, "You don' get it, Mike...I didn't expect you to."

Just then a cell phone went off, the buzzing of the vibration could be heard in the quiet bar. Jacky sighed, pushing back from the bar and sliding off of the stool. "Gotta take this, see ya Mike." She rummaged in her pocket for some cash and slammed down a few bills as she walked out the door, pulling out her phone as she went.

* * *

Dick Grayson leaped from one stalagmite to the next, eventually coming to land directly in front of the monitors where Batman had currently been stationed at for over an hour. "Seen anything new in the last hour, there?" Dick remarked a bit sarcastically.

"Patience is a commodity you should adopt, Dick." Batman sighed.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. You've been staring at the same pictures for hours now, what could you possibly be hoping to find?" Dick said, coming over to stand next to his mentor.

"A connection." Batman said simply.

"The man and the woman were both strangled." Dick pointed out, "So...same person?"

"It's not just the who, Dick, it's the why. You have to be able to find what the victims had in common." Batman explained.

"Yeah? What if there just isn't any?" Dick asked.

"There's always a connection."

* * *

"I don't work on Saturdays." A metal voice rasped out.

"I wasn't aware you types kept up business hours." A voice responded, rough and edgy.

"And I don't recognize your voice, either." The metallic voice snapped.

"Are you interested in a job opportunity?"

"No." The metallic voice said simply, "It's late, I'm tired. An' I told you I don't work on Saturdays."

The voice over the phone gave an eerie laugh, "You work when you're called. That's your job, isn't it...Jack?"

The metal voice laughed as well, "I don't think you understand who you're dealing with. I don't snap to anyone's tune, you snap to mine."

"Does the melody of 200 grand sound like enough for you to reconsider?" The voice wheedled.

There was a slight pause over the phone, then the metallic voice answered, "You must be some kind o' desperate. What's the gig then?"

"Meet me by the docks. I know how much you like the warehouses there." The voice said.

"Hey! How did you know that..." But the connection had already been cut.

* * *

"The drug trafficker; he was due to testify against the Maroni family, or what was left of it."

"Well, anyone would want him dead, right?" Dick supplied, idly flipping the pages in one report, but not even glancing at what was written.

"Quietly." Batman grunted, "This is too obvious. The body was meant to be found."

"Same with the girl." Dick leaned over and tapped a few keys on the computer and pulled up the images of the former call girl in question. "I mean, she was just left with the cord around her neck in the restaurant. Think some high end type wanted to keep a few things quiet?" Dick laughed, but was silenced by the stern glare from Batman. "No 'ffense."

"I know the hit-men in this city." Batman went on, "None of their murders reflect this style."

"It could be the Joker, or even the Riddler." Dick shrugged.

"No clues or riddles left with the bodies."

"Just a bunch of guts." Dick said callously and was once again silenced by another glare. "Sorry...so if it is a hit-man, he's new."

"That's what worries me..."

* * *

The cab ride over to the docks was interesting to say the least. The driver kept looking back at his passenger, and he looked less then pleased with the business. So once they reached their destination Jack decided to tip rather heavily and ask the driver to keep this one off the books.

After adjusting the hat and the coat, Jack pulled out a cigarette and lit up. The pistol secure in the belt under the coat served as a reassurance. Jack didn't like new clients. The dark figure made his way down the steps to the docks. He took a long drag from the cigarette. Something cold was itching down his spine. Something was off tonight.

He walked past the boats to the warehouses in the far left corner of the docks. Already he could see the police tape. He shrugged his shoulders, he made a point never to return to the scene of a job. It gave him the creeps.

He flicked the cigarette away and placed a hand under his coat to push against his gun. Whatever job was up, it had better be worth it. 200 grand sounded pretty worth it. It was more than he made in two jobs, that was certain and it would last for quite some time. He needed the money, why was he being so picky about who offered it or how much it gave him the creeps to get it?

Jack stopped under a lamp post, leaning against it casually. Where was the client, then? He looked around, no one was in sight. He didn't like this. He had never been kept waiting before. He made a point, if the guy didn't show in five minutes he was out of here, 200 grand or not.

That was when the two men stepped out of the shadows and made their approach. Jack relaxed a bit, now it made sense. Two clients, double the cash. He cracked his knuckles with a slight grin. Good, get this over with and get the hell out of dodge.

The men made no sound as they kept walking. Jack could see them reaching into their pockets slowly. A light bulb seemed to go off in Jack's brain. He twisted and ran behind the lamp post just as the gunshots started.

"Damn." He swore, he moved away from the lamp post and tumbled to the ground to avoid the fire.

In an instant he had his gun in hand. He fired once, catching one of the guys in the arm, but the gunfire kept coming. Jack ran around one of the warehouses, hearing the sound of the men giving chase just behind.

"Sonofabitch!" Jack shouted, the metallic sound coming out harsh and almost inaudible. It was a set up! Cops no doubt, but he had left no trace of his presence at any of the murders. And why now? When they had had many chances to come and get him at any time. He was going to catch the guy who had squealed and given the cops one of his numbers. He was going to die nice and slow.

He peered out around the corner and fired blindly. Jack squinted through the gun smoke. No one was there. "What the..." He was hit from behind.

He fell to his feet, but quickly rolled over to see one of his attackers. The man knocked the gun out of his hands. Jack tried to back up on his hands and knees, pulling out his switchblade knife as he moved. "Come on..." he urged, stabbing upwards as the man came at him. He pulled up hard, letting the knife cut across him rather than straight through.

Jack was immediately showered in crimson. He kicked the dying man away to let him writhe in his own guts off to the side. The next man seemed a bit more hesitant now. Jack stood up.

"You're a...a.." The man spluttered.

Jack took that opportunity to pick up the fallen gun and fire twice, catching the man in the chest. The man fell over dead. Jack turned around. "Ah, my hat." He shrugged and stood over the dying man.

"You're partner seemed surprised to see me." Jack spat. "Who do you work for?" He asked as he aimed the gun for the man's head.

The man shook his head stating that he wasn't going to say anything. Jack pressed the gun down harder, "Once more, I couldn't hear ya!"

"Go to hell, bitch!" The man managed to spit out.

"Ladies first." Jack grinned and fired the gun.

Jack ran a bloodied hand through red hair as he strolled back over to pick up his hat. He was greeted instead by dull applause. "Those were my associates, you know. Their deaths will be coming out of your paycheck."

Jack immediately aimed his gun for the man standing hidden in the shadows. He could just barely see an outline. A suit, great, just what he needed. A corporate business type hoping to get in with the out crowd. "You set me up." The metallic voice snapped.

"Not exactly." The man in the shadows said. "I consider that a little training exercise. I wanted to see if I would be getting my money's worth."

Jack laughed, "I oughtta kill ya where ya stand, buddy." And shuffled tiredly into the line of light radiating out from the lamp post. Jack laughed again, "Bet I wasn't what you were expecting." Jaquelin "Jack" Ripely swayed awkwardly on her feet. Her coat was stained with blood and so was the lower half of her face. The headpiece she wore to mask her voice drooped awkwardly down around her left ear. Despite the slightly drunken grin on her face she was not at all pleased for having her hat knocked off. While keeping the gun trained on the man in the shadows she bent over to pick up her hat. She situated it back on her head with one hand.

"I've learned to expect the unexpected." The voice said, followed by the distinct sound of a coin flipping through the air.

"Congratulations, then you'll love this one...my rates just doubled." Jacky snapped.

"No deal there, you're not that good." The voice mocked.

Jacky took a step forward, "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't blast your head off righ' here righ' now?"

"I'll give you two, actually. On the roof of the warehouses behind you I have two men with rifles aimed directly at your head." The voice sounded pleased with himself.

Jacky didn't waver for a moment, her eyes narrowed in frustration. "You're a cop ain't ya? You're bluffing."

"You want to leave something like that up to chance?" The coin flipped again and this time Jacky could see the silver flash in the light.

"No, I wouldn', thas why you're gonna step over here into th' light so I can see ya. If you want to be shy about it, then we're both going to be seeing each other in hell real soon." Jacky barked, jabbing the gun in the air.

The coin stopped flipping abruptly and Jacky could see the man make his way into the center of the light. Immediately Jacky wished she hadn't asked him to do that, or that she had skipped dinner, or passed on that last shot of whiskey. She coughed quietly, forcing down the impulse to gag.

Once she recomposed herself she straightened and her blood covered lips parted in something of a wolfish smile. She didn't lower her gun; however, "Well, well..." she said in her best imitation of a sultry voice, "Hello, Handsome."

* * *

**;) Hope that whole Jack to Jacky thing didn't confuse anyone. Had to keep referring to her as a 'he' to keep up appearance. XD Please remember to review! More to come soon. **


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